


Cada Monte un Altar

by Viscariafields



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 12:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19132192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: Marika Cadash is optimistic, determined, a little naive, and Cassandra feels an uncommon fondness for the woman. They could not have been more lucky with the Maker's choice in a Herald.





	Cada Monte un Altar

“Wait, wait, wait,” Marika said, holding both hands up and looking at her companions conspiratorially, “I have a joke.”

“This should be good,” Varric said, raising his eyebrows at Cassandra. She shushed him, turning her attention to the small, Antivan dwarf to her right. There was something about her thick accent that made her much more pleasant to listen to than _Varric_. This would be a welcome respite from his tales.

Marika already wore a smile so broad it threatened to crack her entire face open before she even began speaking. When she finally did get a few words out, they were each punctuated with giggles and laughs. Following her train of thought was almost impossible.

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile watching her struggle.

"Do you remember," she paused to double over, slapping her own thigh in mirth, "that song… Varric you must know it… old tavern song…" her voice gave out again as she dissolved into helpless giggles.

She almost got a hold of herself numerous times, waving her hands in front of her face to gather air, struggling to get a deep breath. As a test, she would pull in a long breath, but as she let it out, the laughter would start again.

It was contagious. Cassandra found it impossible to watch her and not be moved to laughter herself. Her words were nonsense, but the sheer pleasure she had in trying to say them, to tell her joke-- it was beautiful. And hilarious. Varric was in tears by the time Marika remembered the name of the song-- "Andraste’s Mabari."

"My friend," she gasped, holding her belly, "my friend thought the words were--"

It would be another five minutes before they learned what her friend thought. Marika was rendered speechless by her own laughter. Soon it was coming out soundlessly, just her whole body shaking and gasps for air. Cassandra was crying now, too, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. Even Solas seemed to have lost control in the face of this as yet untold joke. He covered his mouth, his eyes crinkled almost shut.

"She thought the words were, ay, what did she think they were? She thought they were, ‘And Rusty… and rusty…?’" she paused, taking in a deep, ragged breath. Her face now turned to confusion, thick eyebrows furrowing over her deep brown eyes. "No that's not right. What did she think the words were?"

The answer was not forthcoming. They waited, but as Marika dried her eyes and caught her breath and kept it this time, they realized she had no answer. That was the end of the joke. Marika grinned in apology as Cassandra's mouth dropped open.

"There wasn't even a punchline," Solas murmured, hand still over his mouth, "after all that."

"When it comes to telling jokes, you are the worst I've ever met, and somehow, " Varric said, still wiping his eyes, "you get more laughs than anyone."

“And how do you know the joke was not on you?”

Varric’s mouth dropped this time, and then the four of them lost it again. It was a brave and obvious coverup, and Marika couldn’t hold the deception long enough to sell it. She laughed so hard she had to brace herself on Cassandra’s arm. Cassandra placed a comforting arm on the back of the other woman, feeling a warm happiness seep into her where they touched.

As she went to sleep that night on the hard ground in the Hinterlands, Cassandra felt the warmest tenderness for her new friend. She hadn’t believed she could feel so at ease with the world at war with itself like this, but somehow Marika repelled Cassandra’s anxieties with a smile. The Herald of Andraste was not at all who she thought she would be. She was much better.

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a side project because I already have two unfinished fics that are still going, but I suddenly had the beginning to this story, and I really had to get it out. I only think it will be like five chapters tops, if that. 
> 
> The title comes from a poem, "El dia que me quieras," by Amado Nervo. "The day when you love me" in English, and the title translates to "Every mount an altar."


End file.
